


Confíteor: ille mi par esse deo videtur.

by awesomissima



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Latin, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Song: Take Me To Church (Hozier), pynch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 12:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20866259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomissima/pseuds/awesomissima
Summary: In Ronan's deepest hour of darkness, he would have shone for him.The sacred and The profane.





	Confíteor: ille mi par esse deo videtur.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crostiina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crostiina/gifts).

> the title means: "I confess: that man seems to be just like god." It's a mashup between a catholic pray and a Poem of Catullus.

_ Confíteor Deo omnipoténti _

_ Et vobis, fratres: quia peccávi nimis _

_ cogitatióne, verbo, ópere et omissióne. _

_ [I confess to almighty God _

_ and to you, my brothers and sisters, _

_ that I have greatly sinned _

_ in my thoughts and in my words, _

_ in what I have done _

_ and in what I have failed to do.] _

He had seen the horror, he had seen the wonder happening just in front of his eyes: both in the real world and in his dreams, that were not less real.

Adam was adamant: in Ronan's deepest hour of darkness, he would have shone for him. For him he would have been able to command the lights to dispel both the darkness and his sufferings.

He would have given his heart, he would have given his soul like he already had sacrificed his eyes and his hands.

His blood and tears would have flown to quenching Ronan's fatigued soul, if it were necessary.

Ronan was confessing his sins and begging for absolution but Adam couldn't see those sins: they had never been committed. Ronan had spent his life in permanent expiation and, despite the years they had known one other, Adam had yet to understand what he was punishing himself for.

Then, Ronan looked up to him, still kneeling in prayer, his lips twitched slightly, suppressing a smile and Adam held a chuckle wisely hidden behind a cough. He didn't intend to be disrespectful to his sacred side, he was simply driven by the sheer happiness that floated through his heart whenever Ronan smiled at him. It wasn't enough to avoid a disapproving look by the priest.

_ Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa _.

[_ through my fault, _

_ through my fault, _

_ through my most grievous fault _]

"Adam, please."

Ronan whispered and he nodded, becoming serious again. He thought intensely about those exact words: "Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa".

_ Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault _: this words remained in his head. Ronan had spent his life purging himself of faults that he never had. Occasionally Adam thought Ronan felt his whole existence as a fault.

Ronan crucified himself instead of Barabba when he couldn't love himself.

He could crucify himself for him, be the savior Ronan was struggling for.

He would have loved Ronan more than anything, strongly and viscerally to compensate all the time Ronan hadn't the strength to do it.

He would have been his hands nailed to the cross, his eyes covered in blood under a crown of thorns.

_ Ídeo precor beatam Maríam _

_ semper Vírginem, _

_ omnes Ángelos et Sanctos, _

_ et vos, fratres _

_ [therefore I ask blessed Mary ever-Virgin, _

_ all the Angels and Saints, _

_ and you, my brothers and sisters] _

Ronan took his hand, Adam brushed delicately his fingertips over Ronan's palm. The way he always looked at him, the way he seemed to yearn for him, the sacral way he always had of touching him: they looked like intense, unfathomable experiences of bliss and ecstatic epiphany in his celebration of Adam's nature as if it was divine. Inside Ronan, the sacred and the profane were stirred together: The Sacrifice of Christ as the absolute way he gave himself to Adam and the poetry of Catullus whenever his spirit was flooded by the most basic instincts that, on the path from the soul to the body, became passion, lust desires. Craving Adam, to satisfy all of Adam's undisclosed desires.

_ Oráre pro me _

_ ad Dóminum Deum nostrum _.

[_ to pray for me to the Lord our God _.]

Sometimes he had the dramatic perception that Ronan believed he was not worthy of his love, that he still had to earned it and it tore him apart: he had belonged to Ronan before they even met, that was their own Revelation of biblical predestination. 

It was going be fine: he had an entire life ahead of him to show Ronan that being loved by him and loving him were caresses by divine light: warm and reassuring.

Adam's lips curled up on one side, looking at Ronan's eyes and his radiant smile.

It wasn't hard to let the words come out of his mouth.

"Yes, I do."

Then the wedding ring slid on fourth finger of Ronan's hand.

**Author's Note:**

> First of all: I'm italian so English is not my first language.  
This piece in particular is very important to me, I feel every word I wrote and every of them come from the bottom of my heart.  
This fic is my gift for the most important persone of my life.  
In her deepest hours of darknest I will shine for her.  
And she is my beta reader to.  
SO THANK YOU CROSTIINA.  
And I wanto to thank whon would read my bullshit.
> 
> HASTA LA VISTA


End file.
